Bad Day
by Lihau
Summary: Roy Harper is having a bad day...


**Disclaimer:** In my dreams, yes, I own them. But this isn't a dream, so I don't own 'em. The world is cruel that way.

**Bad Day**

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Mmph…"

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeee—_

Roy Harper slammed his hand down on his alarm clock and yelled at it, "Shaddup!"

_Beep! Beep!_

The clock defiantly continued screaming.

"I _said_…"

Roy snatched up the clock and stared furiously at it.

"SHUT UP!"

He flung the time-keeping device across the room and it crashed into the wall, breaking into a few different pieces.

_Be-eep! Be-eep!_

Jumping out of bed, Roy grabbed his pillow and threw it down onto the half-broken clock. He bounced up and down on the pillow a few times.

"Die, you stupid clock!"

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeee-errrrrrrrrrrrrr_

Sighing in relief, Roy picked up his pillow. The clock was dead. After tossing the pillow to one side, Roy fingered the hour hand of the deceased clock, which had actually been electronic but had been designed to look like an old alarm clock. He wondered why he'd set the alarm on a Saturday.

"Oh, no!"

Today was the day of his driving test. He'd completely forgotten about it. Yanking a t-shirt and a pair of jeans out of his dresser, Roy raced to his bathroom to take a quick shower.

-

Taking a moment away from his breakfast to say a quick 'hi' to his ward, Oliver Queen looked up and stared in surprise at Roy.

"What happened to you? Isn't it too early for swimming?"

Roy didn't reply, just glowered and sat down to eat.

"Well? What's your problem?"

"I had to take a cold shower."

"Why?"

"Because the hot water isn't working!"

"It isn't? Worked fine for me…"

"It would," Roy breathed, shoving a forkful of waffles into his mouth.

"Couldn't you've dried off anyway? You're getting everything wet."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Someone stole my towels!"

"Wha—oh. I asked for your towels to be washed this morning. I didn't know you were getting up this early…"

Roy grunted 'hmph' at Ollie, but thought, _You never know anything_.

"So. Are you gonna tell me _why_ you're up?"

"Uh, my driving test? Remember that? You said you'd drive there with me."

"Ohh, yeah. I almost forgot that that was why _I'm_ up so early. Let's try to make this a one-time-only deal, huh?"

Roy rolled his eyes and continued his breakfast.

-

"You're too close to that car," Ollie said, pointing to the mini-van parked just outside his window. "I can't get out."

"Oh… is that bad?"

Ollie glared and said, "Park it again. _Better_."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Roy backed out of the space, heading towards the building wall a couple of yards behind him.

_SCRRREEEE-BANG_

Roy slammed on the brakes and looked over nervously at Ollie, who appeared to be in shock.

Casting a dark glance in Roy's direction, Ollie growled, "This is coming out of your allowance."

Cringing at the thought of paying for the damage done to one of Ollie's very expensive cars, Roy very carefully parked the car in an empty space.

Ollie, not at all to Roy's surprise, didn't comment on how he'd parked much better this time. Instead, the Star City millionaire simply got out of the car and went to inspect the damage done to its rear.

Roy turned off the ignition and joined Ollie at the rear of the car.

"Ah!" Roy yelped, staring at the large dent he'd created in the back. Looking up into Ollie's seething face, Roy gave a nervous, toothy smile and offered, "Heh… that doesn't look too bad… heh… heh…"

As Roy turned his head away to stare at the dent, Ollie stalked into the office building of the driving school.

"Heh… I'm so dead…"

-

"Almost finished," Mr. Lawson, the man giving Roy his driving test, announced. "You're doing very well."

Roy grinned.

"Just pull into that parking space over there."

Roy slowly turned the car into the space Mr. Lawson had designated and then stopped. He took his foot off the accelerator.

"You can pull in a little farther than _that_."

Roy pressed down on the accelerator. A little too hard.

_BAM_

Staring in horror through the windshield, Roy let his foot slip off the dastardly pedal.

-

"You _crashed_ through someone's _window_?"

Roy gulped and nodded.

"So… you totaled their car?"

"No," Roy said anxiously.

"Well," Ollie sighed. "That's good. What damage _did_ you do to their car?"

"None. Only to the driving school's car."

"Phew."

"But… I _did_ kinda total their house…"

"You _WHAT_?! How'd you—? Isn't there a fence between the house and the school?"

"Yeah… kinda totaled that, too…"

"Mr. Lawson would like to see you now," the receptionist announced. She hesitated before adding, "Needless to say, you didn't pass the test."

Roy was too petrified by that look Ollie had on his face to really care.

-

"You are in _big_ trouble, bub," Ollie kept repeating on the drive home.

Roy tried to slouch down lower in the passenger seat.

As Ollie got out of the car, his cell phone rang. "Hello?" Ollie barked into it. "Oh. Dinah. …Sure. Just give me a minute to change cars. …Uh-huh. Right."

After turning off the phone, Ollie ordered, "Stay in your room 'til I get back," before going to get an undamaged car from the garage.

-

As soon as Ollie's car was out of sight, Roy left his room and walked downstairs to the gym to practice some archery. Oh, come on, you didn't actually expect him to stay in his room, did you?

An hour passed as Roy shot arrow after arrow at the target. Since he always hit the bull's-eye, the little red circle filled up rather quickly and he'd have to remove the arrows before proceeding.

"I totaled the driving school's car," Roy said aloud, shooting another arrow.

_You totaled your life_, a voice inside his head corrected.

"I totaled their house."

_You totaled your afterlife_.

"Oh, shut up."

-

It was about three o'clock now, and Roy was getting hungry. He hadn't eaten lunch because his stomach had been too unsettled by the morning's events. Fixing himself a sandwich, Roy sat down at the kitchen counter to eat it.

_Ring! Ring! Ri—_

Roy picked up the phone on the third ring and answered it with, "Y-ello."

"That you, Roy?" Dick Grayson's voice came across the line.

"Unfortunately, yeah."

"You _bet_ 'unfortunately'! You promised you'd meet us here two hours ago! Where have you _been_?!"

'Us' was the Teen Titans. Roy—or, rather, Speedy—had been supposed to attend a meeting at the Titans' Lair at one o'clock.

"Look, Bird Brain, I have enough problems without taking on the Joker or Mirror Master or Black Manta! Now twitter on back to your nest or I'll clip your wings!"

Roy rammed in the 'off' button of the phone and dropped it into the garbage can.

_Ri—_

Roy grabbed the phone out of the trash can and yelled, "IF YOU DON'T GET OFF MY CASE, I'LL—!"

A female's voice crackled over the phone. "Roy?"

"Oh. Donna. Heh. …Hi?"

"Are you alright?"

"No."

"Why don't you come over here? We can talk about it if you'd like."

"Well… I _really_ don't wanna be here when Ollie comes back… so…"

"Great! See you in a few minutes."

_Click_

-

"Wow," was all Kid Flash could say after Speedy finished relating his sad, sad tale.

"This makes me very glad that I will never need to learn to drive," Aqualad murmured with a nod.

"You look pretty tired," Wonder Girl said. "Why don't we get you some fruit juice or another drink with sugar in it?"

"Sure," Speedy replied gratefully.

Robin, the closest to the mini-fridge, took out a bottle and handed it to Speedy. The archer, while listening to Kid Flash ramble on about how terribly his last baseball game had gone, began half-consciously shaking the bottle back and forth.

"Uh, Speedy?" Robin began.

"…We lost ten to nothing," Kid Flash finished.

Speedy, opening the bottle's cap, wasn't paying much attention as Robin repeated, "Speedy? I really don't think—"

_FIZZZZZZZZZ_

"Ack!" Speedy exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and dropping the bottle as a brownish-black liquid flowed out of the container and onto his gloved hand. "What the…?"

"…I _tried_ to tell you that I couldn't find any juice… so I got you a diet Coke…"

Speedy looked down and suddenly realized that the soda had flowed all over his boots. His yellow boots. His yellow glove. Which were probably about to be given a nice, sticky, brown overcoat.

"This is not my day." Speedy sighed.

-

"Oh, great!" Speedy hissed. The others had sent him home to try to get the soda stains out of his glove and boots and then take a much-needed nap, but it seemed like Ollie had just gotten back home.

Well, there was only one thing to do: Scale the side of the mansion and climb back into his bedroom through the window. He smirked as he crept around to the side of the house. This would be a cinch—he'd just have to shoot a rope attached to an arrow up to the roof, climb up to his room, and then yank the arrow back down to himself.

Just as he was about to take out an arrow, however, he suddenly remembered that he'd taken off his quiver back at the Lair—and forgotten it.

"Time for Plan B," Speedy decided quietly.

He looked up. His room was on the second floor, right above the living room.

_Could've been worse_, he thought. _Could've been higher… but I wish it was lower…_

Speedy looked around, trying to think of some way to get up to his room. Luckily, there was a tall ladder leaning against the back of the house, waiting for the repairman to fix the roof tomorrow; he could borrow that.

He grabbed the ladder and moved it around to the east side of the building. After jiggling it a bit to make sure it was secure, Speedy began climbing. This venture almost went perfectly.

Ollie poked his head out of Speedy's bedroom window and roared, "What do you think you're _doing_?! Didn't I tell you to—!"

Speedy began to lose his balance; Ollie had surprised him.

"Whoooa!"

"Roy! Hang—"

"YIII!"

_KLUNK_

-

"R—Speedy," Ollie corrected himself. "Are you okay?"

"Wha… what happened?" Speedy mumbled.

"You fell. Are you alright?"

"Ye-eah… I think so…"

"This wouldn't've happened if you'd stayed in your room, you know."

"Uh, Ollie?" Speedy begged. "Not now. _Please_."

-

"Oww," Roy muttered, hobbling down the stairs one at a time. "Ow… ow… ow… ow… OWWWW!"

"What's the matter?" Ollie demanded. "I thought you said you were okay."

"Yeh, well, I changed my mind."

"Do you need a doctor or can I just go to dinner? Dinah's waiting."

"I'll be fine," Roy returned coldly. "I'll be fine _alone_."

"That's what _you_ think. _I_ don't think so, though, so I persuaded Barry to let Warren run over here and stay with you for a while."

"His name is _Wally_ and I don't need _him_ to _baby-sit_ me."

"Don't think you're the _only_ one who hates this idea," Wally piped up, leaning against the doorway to the game room. "_I_ wanted to go to the movies."

"Roy isn't leaving the house," Ollie stated, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be back."

"Who do you think you are?" Roy asked sarcastically. "The Terminator?"

Ollie gave him a withering look before leaving, slamming the door shut.

"Hasta la vista, baby!" Roy called after him.

"Boy," Wally commented, "what a grouchy-puss. Well, whaddya wanna do?"

"Writhe."

"Excuse me?"

"My ankle. Is. _Killing me_."

"Want me to call a doctor?"

"No. Call Dick. Maybe Featherhead knows some weird miracle-cure or something."

-

As it turned out, Dick knew of no weird miracle-cures. However, he did recommend calling a doctor if it hurt _that_ badly. After several minutes of arguing with both Wally and Dick, Roy finally agreed to let Wally call a doctor.

Just before he was about to dial the number Roy had told him, Wally asked, "Does this guy make house calls?"

"For Ollie and me he will. Money talks."

-

Yes, indeed, money did talk and that was probably the reason why Dr. Potter came. And examined Roy's ankle. And called the hospital. And sent Roy and his most-likely-broken ankle _to_ the hospital.

-

"Say it again?" Wally asked, holding a pencil at the ready.

"_Closed fractures of the Talus, Calcaneus, and Fibula_. And that's the last time I'm telling ya!" Roy grumped, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sure! Um… how do you spell 'Calcaneus'?"

"C-A-L—oh, forget it! When's Ollie coming? The doctor says that he needs to take me home."

"They said that they finally got through to that restaurant Mr. Queen was at, and Mr. Queen said he'd be here in half an hour or less."

"Good. It smells funny in here."

"Don't complain—you don't get to smell the fragrant aroma of disinfectant every day," Wally joked.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

-

"Slow down!" Ollie snapped. "You wanna break it again?"

Ollie was helping Roy up the stairs to his bedroom. Wally had been dismissed and was now probably back in the Mid-West.

Roy made a face at him and continued upstairs faster than before, his crutches making soft little squooshy noises on the carpeted steps. Okay, so Ollie wasn't exactly helping much in the full sense of the word—he was actually just walking behind Roy, so that if he was to fall backwards he wouldn't go tumbling down the stairs.

"You scared me half to death when Dr. Potter called and said you were in the hospital," complained Ollie. "Why didn't you just tell me your ankle felt broken in the first place?"

Roy snorted in reply and went even faster.

"Slow down or you'll fall and break your neck!"

Not paying any attention to Ollie, Roy tried to go faster, but his right crutch hit the edge of a step and he stumbled forward. Ollie quickly grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back before he could fall.

Roy shrugged Ollie's hands away and continued up the stairs.

"What's wrong with you today?" Ollie demanded. "First you dent _my_ car, then you crash someone _else's_ car into a _house_, then you don't _listen_ to me and wander off, _then_ you fall and break your ankle and don't tell me about it, and _now_ you won't even talk to me!"

Once he'd reached the top of the stairs, Roy turned his head to look over his shoulder.

He said curtly, "None of it is any of your beeswax, thank you. I have my _own_ life and _you're_ not a part of it. Literally. Now leave me alone." As he limped off to his room, Roy muttered, "Like you always do."

-

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"What the…?" Roy asked himself as he sat up the next morning. Hadn't he killed that clock yesterday?

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Ollie standing and grinning in the doorway.

"I got your clock fixed," Ollie explained.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Roy glared at the evil timepiece.

"I… was just thinking," Ollie began awkwardly.

"You? Really? What?"

"I was just thinking we… don't spend enough time together."

Roy raised an eyebrow and said an extremely sarcastic, "Ya think?"

"Yeah. I do think… sometimes."

Ollie paused before continuing, "Anyway, it's Sunday. Still the weekend. We can't do anything too active 'cause of that ankle but… how about just hanging around the house… playing a few board and video games?"

Roy's other eyebrow rose.

"…Well?" Ollie was becoming impatient. "Yes or no—what do you say?"

Roy grinned. "I say that I'm _so_ gonna whoop you every single game!"

"Oh, yeah? I'll have you know I'm a Pac-Man champion!"

"Yeah? In what century? And who plays with that little blip and the four blobs anymore, anyway?"

"Hey, those are ghosts, not blobs," Ollie protested. "And you know what the pink one's name is?"

"What?"

"Speedy!"

"You're making that up!"

"Am not."

"Are so!"

"Am not—now get dressed and meet me downstairs. But first, take a shower—you smell like disinfectant."

-

After a quick breakfast, Ollie was introducing Roy to the wonderful world of Pac-Man.

"You were just kidding about that pink blob being named 'Speedy' right?"

"No."

"Yes, you were! You made it up!"

"Did not."

"Did so!"

"Did not."

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did SO!"

"Did NOT!"

"DID—"

**The End**


End file.
